


We Will Return

by jellybeansarecool



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: And River's wondering why on earth she answered Jack's phone call, Cuddling, Directly after Torchwood S2E6 - 'Reset', F/M, Gwen and Martha are hella confused, I'm honestly making a whole lot of this up, Jack and River are best friends, The Time Lords are bastards, Tosh is a bloody genius, fluff (and angst) to finish, it should be fun!, just go with it, swearing (but only a little bit), traveling between the universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26675575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellybeansarecool/pseuds/jellybeansarecool
Summary: Wanting to return to their place in the universe, the Time Lords enact a plan to make that happen. One that ends up entangling both the Torchwood team and the notorious Professor River Song with questionable results for all.
Relationships: Eleventh Doctor/River Song, Jack Harkness & River Song, The Doctor/River Song
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	1. Chosen

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone is doing ok.  
> It's been a while since I've written anything, so I decided to sit myself down and actually put pen to paper, as it were. The story is planned out, but we shall see how it goes and if I can stick to a regular posting schedule (don't hold your breath).  
> For those of you who are here for River, she'll turn up in chapter three (I've got to set context damn it!). I hope it'll be worth the wait.  
> Oh! Before we start, if you did happen to read one of my other stories, 'The Last Time Lord', this could be a sort of timey wimey prologue. But honestly, there is no need to have read it and even if you have the connection is slight (hence why I haven't officially connected the two).  
> Alright! On with the show.

The General looked down out at the masses below. She clasped her hands behind her back and thanked the gods her fathers no longer believed for the reinforced glass that made up the windows. Below her, the commoners swarmed like rats escaping a sinking ship. She sighed. If only that were possible. 

“General! General!”

She turned and gave her subordinate a sharp look. The young man staggered to a stop. His chest heaved from running as he stood at attention, waiting for her approval to talk. He looked as if someone had shoved a steel rod through him from below; she stopped herself from rolling her eyes.

“What is it?” She demanded. The General had no time for petty concerns. 

“The people, sir, _ma’am_ , they’re rioting again. It’s getting out of control.”

She brought up her hand and rubbed it wearily over her face in an attempt to retain her composure. “I am aware that the people are rioting,” she slowly, as if to a child.

“What should we do? If it isn’t deescalated soon, we won’t be able to keep the number of casualties down. We can’t afford to lose more lives. Not after…” 

The General turned sharply and looked at him properly. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his eyes were rimmed with red. She felt a pang of concern for him but pushed it down. There wasn’t time for such feelings. She was nothing more than his commanding officer, and he, despite his youth, was but one person in her command. She needed to focus her mind on the current crisis. No doubt more would follow close on its heels. 

The uprisings were increasing with alarming frequency. The planet couldn’t continue functioning if something didn’t change. She knew what the people wanted, but she wasn’t able to give it to them no matter how much she desired to. In all honesty, she wanted the same thing – they all did. To get out of the isolated bubble universe that the Doctor had put them in and return to their own universe. There was just one problem. Entry into the prime universe wasn’t possible from their side. It had to be initiated from the universe from which they’d come. They had waited for far too long for the Doctor to repay his debt to them, and now resources were low, and people were looking to force their way out by any means necessary. If she wasn’t careful, she would have a civil war on her hands. 

The General turned back to the young man, “Call a meeting of the Council. We begin in thirty minutes.” 

The young man nodded and saluted before turning on his heel and rushing out the door. The General shook her head and turned back to the window. The crowd had started throwing any object they could lay their grimy hands on. A rock slammed into the window, leaving a dirty mark as it tumbled back to the earth below. This would be a long night.

The General looked around the table at the Council. A few of the other Lords had taken the time to put on the appropriate regalia. Others, like herself, had not seen the necessity. She had remained in her military garb. When this was all over, then she might follow the patterns of her ancestors, but today there was more at stake than their traditions and pride. She knew a few of the older members of the Council would have refuted this claim. She could hear their arguments in her head that that was exactly what was a stake, but she didn’t have the energy to hash it out with them. There’d be time for that later. She hoped.

The Keeper stroked his silver-flecked beard. “What are we going to do?” He asked. 

“Something must be done. We can’t wait here and rot!” Another councilmember exclaimed.

“Surely the Doctor won’t leave us here. We need to be patient.”

“You’re joking. You know he doesn’t care for us, _any_ of us.”

“He’s a war hero. He will do something.”

“Ha! He only saved the planet to ease his guilty conscious. If he thinks we’re _safe_ , he won’t do anything to help us.”

“But he owes us!”

“The Elder is right. We set aside the sacred ordinances and provided the necessary regeneration energy. Abandoning us would amount to treason.”

The chatter spun circles in the air, swirling the mists of uncertainty throughout the room, and clouding the members resolve. Some advocated patience, believing the Doctor would do his duty and provide the pathway back into the universe. Others called for action, arguing that they couldn’t rely on the Doctor to do anything, stating he was more a renegade criminal than the beloved war hero that many made him out to be.

The General rubbed her temple, trying to ease the pressure that pushed against the inside of her skull. She could feel a headache coming on. “Enough!” She cried as the voices rose in volume, each councilmember trying to make themselves heard above the others. “I called you here not to fight but because we cannot wait any longer. Our resources are running thin, and our troupes can barely hold off the hordes of the starving. They can see that things are deteriorating with no hope of improving. And unfortunately for us, they think we have the answer.” She looked around at them, “So you’d better come up with one fast.”

The newest member, the Cleric, cleared her throat. Nervous with the eyes of the Council on her, she rubbed the back of her neck, “We have to get his attention. We all agree that we need the Doctor to provide the opening between the universes. There’s no way we can do it from here. We can’t create a gap large enough to get a whole planet through. For it to work, we need a guide,” she waved her hands around as she warmed up to her topic, “otherwise we could end up in a worse position. So, the question isn’t how do we get out? But how do we get his attention? Once we have it, then we can find a way to convince him that it’s in everyone’s best interest that we return to Kastaberous.”

The others nodded and turned to look at the General. 

The woman in question flashed a smile. She’d have to keep an eye on that one; the younger woman showed promise. “Alright then,” the General hummed, “How _do_ we get the Doctor’s attention?” 

Silence fell over the group as they tried to think of a way in which they could catch the Doctor’s notice. Moments passed as one member, and then another would open their mouth to say something before closing it without uttering a word. The General was ready to call an end to the meeting out of pure frustration when the Painter spoke up. She felt her interest pique; usually, the man in question contributed nothing to the Council’s discussions. He was there to make up the numbers and nothing more. Everyone knew that he’d much rather be out in the wastelands painting the Citadel at dusk. She arched an eyebrow and nodded at him to speak. 

The Painter took a steadying breath, “You all must have heard by now that they have managed to create a small entryway into the other universe?” He looked around the table for confirmation, when he got it, he continued, “It’s not dissimilar to the crack that we used previously. What if we sent someone through?” 

The Elder started to laugh and before long a few of the other Time Lords joined in. The Painter’s brows furrowed as he looked at the clenched hands in his lap. 

The Cleric looked around at the group, confused as to why they found the idea so amusing. She clenched her teeth before deciding to speak, “He’s not wrong.” 

The other councilmembers fell silent at her rebuke. Their eyes meet hers, questions shinning in each of their shimmering orbs.

“If we sent someone through,” she said, “someone small enough to fit without tearing a hole in the fabric of space-time, then they could convince the Doctor to allow entryway back into the universe.”

“What you’re suggesting,” the Keeper growled, his voice low and dangerous, “is that we send a child through. I have been with the engineers piloting this project. Anyone larger than a small child would threaten the fabric of reality. We can’t even guarantee a child would be able to make it through unharmed. And we certainly couldn’t guarantee that they would arrive somewhere hospitable!”

“Who would sacrifice their child for such an experiment?” The question hung over the group, weighing down on them until they almost suffocated. 

In the oppressive silence, the Painter spoke once again, “There is one man.” 

Vermillion of the house of Lungburrow stood nervously beside the closed door leading to the Council chamber. He wrung his hands and wondered why they wanted him. Surely, they didn’t think that he had anything to do with the plots against the Council? His house was already in disrepute among its Chapter. In the not so distant past, Lungburrow had inspired awe on those who dared to utter its name. Heroes hailed from their famed house. The Time War had seen it fit to change all that. And then his uncle, the infamous Doctor, had resumed his rebellious travels leaving their cousin in charge. His leadership was short-lived, however, as he was a notorious good-for-nothing and was currently imprisoned. 

Vermillion scratched his balding head. He hadn’t even graduated from the Academy. He was nothing, and yet he had been the only one left. He had tried, but it was never enough. The small man let his head tip back and hit the wall with a soft thud.

He could think of no good reason why the Council would call him – a tired old man who was ridiculed by his peers. Perhaps the inevitable had come? Perhaps they were going to dismantle the house. It wouldn’t bother him if he only had himself to think of, but he had a family. Not his villainous cousin, or even the Doctor; no, they meant nothing to him now. One abandoned him, and the other humiliated him. But he had a son and a daughter. What would happen to them? 

Vermillion jumped when he heard his name called from within the Council chamber. His hearts pounded in his chest as he took the last few steps toward the room. The door moved silently gaining him entrance to the hallowed ground. He rubbed his palms against his coarse gown, removing the sweat that coated his skin. He looked out over the collected group of Time Lords and Ladies. They remained seated and looked at him with a mixture of disdain and pity. One woman, however, stood. He gulped, it was none other than the General. 

“Vermillion,” she said, “take a seat.” She swept her hand toward an empty chair. 

He nodded. His legs shook as he moved toward the open space. Once he had taken his seat, the General began to speak. 

“It is no secret to any of us here that Lungburrow has fallen from its place among the great houses.”

Vermillion nodded, and his hearts lodged themselves in his throat.

The General placed her palms on the table and leaned forward. “And you would do anything to restore some of its honour.”

Vermillion’s stomach dropped. What could they want?

The General stood up and began to pace, “You have a son, yes?”

“Ye- Yes.”

“He was recently refused entry into the Academy, was he not?”

Vermillion’s head shot up, fire burning in his eyes. “It wasn’t right! He’s a good kid – a smart kid. He just loves to tinker, that’s all. If he belonged to any other house, they would have accepted him! It wouldn’t have mattered that he tried to rewire the testing booth.”

The General glared in his direction. He ducked his head in shame. It would do no good to argue the matter now. “Would you say that he wants to go to the Academy?” 

Vermillion looked up in surprise, confusion flashing across his face. “Yes. Yes, he would.”

“Good. I think we can help each other.” Her smile was sharp and carried an omen of disaster. Vermillion shook in fear. 

The General looked over at one of the soldiers stationed in the corner of the room. She nodded, sending the man out of the room. Vermillion’s eyes flicked from one face to another, but the councilmembers remained silent as they waited for the soldier’s return. A few shot him a look that he couldn’t quite interpret. He was never good at reading faces. 

Vermillion didn’t have to wait long for the other man to return. He gasped. In the soldier’s grasp was his son. The boy struggled to no avail as he was marched up to the General. When they passed by his seat, Ro-Haan gave his father a questioning look. Without speaking, Vermillion tried to let him know that it would be ok. 

“I found him chucking stones at the building with the others,” the soldier said. 

Vermillion’s breath was caught in his chest. Oh no.

“You can leave us,” the General said. The unnamed soldier nodded and returned to his post. Ro-Haan glared up at the General; his hands balled into fists at his side. 

Looking down her nose at the child, the General asked, “How would you like to be a hero? The boy who saves Gallifrey?”

Ro-Haan frowned. 

The General sighed and crouched in front of the seven-year-old. “I heard you would like to go to the Academy.” At the child’s nod, she continued. “There’s a job that we need someone very special for, and you are our first choice. If you succeed you can go to the Academy and you will be a hero. Would you like to hear what it is?”

“Yes.” Ro-Haan nodded his dark curls bouncing on his forehead. 

The General smiled and stood. “Do you know the Doctor?”

“He’s my Great-Uncle.”

“That’s right, and he is in the other universe. We need someone to travel there and tell him that we need his help to go back home. Do you think you could do that?”

Vermillion’s eyes widened. This is what they wanted? They wanted to send his son, _his only son_ , a seven-year-old who still couldn’t tie his shoelaces, to another universe! He tried to stand but the Time Lord beside him gripped him tightly, warning him that he shouldn’t interfere.

“What happens if I don’t?” Ro-Haan asked. 

“We will have to find another little boy or girl to do it, and you will never go to the Academy. You may even go to prison for joining the riots.” The General glanced over at Vermillion. She hated herself, but this was for the good of the planet. Sacrifices had to be made. “Or maybe we could send your dad instead.”

Ro-Haan looked to his father, panic flashing in his eyes. “No! I can do it.”

“Good.”

Ro-Haan’s screams tore through his body. They burned his throat as they clawed their way out of his mouth. He landed in a field and could feel the damp of the mud and grass soak into his clothes. His fingers dug into the soft dirt as he swayed on his hands and knees, unable to stop the sick from leaving his body. Tears ran down his face, and his ears rang. When he’d finished emptying the contents of his stomach, he flopped over onto his side on the wet grass and sobbed. He clutched at his torso and drew his knees up to his chest as his body shook violently.

He was sick twice more, and the bile burned his raw throat. He ran his soggy grass-stained sleeve over his mouth before sitting on his heels and looking around. The tears swimming in his eyes made the distant lights glow and shimmer. He was on the outskirts of a city but what city and on what planet he knew not. 

He tried to stand up, but his legs gave out underneath him, sending him tumbling back to the muddy ground. Ro-Haan crawled away from where he’d thrown up, from where the vomit steamed in the cool air. He shuddered. He looked around again but didn’t know where to go. How would he find the Doctor? When the Council told him what he needed to do, he didn’t think about how difficult it would be to find his great-uncle. He was alone. The boy wanted to cry again, but there wasn’t any point. No one was coming.


	2. The Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following Owen's death, the Torchwood team finds a young boy. The question is, who is he, and why does he have two hearts?

Torchwood: Cardiff watched silently as Jack pushed Owen’s lifeless body into the industrial cooler. They felt numb. Their friend was gone, his life taken from him, from them, too soon. Tosh bit back a sob as Jack closed the doors. It was real. She’d never get to see the spark of life shine in his eyes again. This job was cruel, too cruel. 

Jack took in his team through tear-filled eyes. He rubbed the side of his face and started to tell them to all go home and get some rest when an alarm pierced the air. The air around them was filled with shrieking as they rushed to the respective stations. There would be time to mourn later. The alarm alerted the team to a disruption in the rift, a major one if the volume and frequency were any measures. 

Gwen skidded to a stop at her desk. She opened up the window containing the alarm’s data; her eyes scanned frantically over the information as she scrolled. The rift activity levels were spiking higher than she’d ever seen them. The young woman looked over at Tosh who was desperately doing equations, trying to make some sense of the numbers flying across her own screen.

“What is it? What’s happening?” Jack demanded, his hands resting on his hips as he surveyed his team.

Tosh looked at her screen again, “I don’t know,” she cried, “But it seems to all be centring around an area to the west of the city. I need to narrow it down.”

“Gwen, Martha, you’re with me. Tosh send me those coordinates as soon as you have them!” Jack broke into a brisk jog, and the two women followed close on his heels.

Once she’d made sense of the numbers, Tosh was able to direct them toward an open field on the edge of the city. As he neared the coordinates, Jack slowed the vehicle down and drew his gun. Nodding at the others, the three Torchwood agents slowly circled the truck until they stood together on the edge of the water clogged field.

Martha gasped. In front of them sat a young boy, no older than six or seven. Taking a step closer, the boy pushed himself to his feet. He staggered, his arms hovering away from his body as he tried to keep himself from falling back onto the muddy ground. The child’s long red robe was covered in large wet patches which gave him no protection from the chilled air. Martha’s heart clenched painfully in her chest with each violent shiver that tore through his small body. Tentatively, she took a few more steps forward and began to reach out towards him. His dark eyes blew wide open in fear, and he took a few shaky steps backwards. Her heart shattered as the boy lifted his hands to protect himself and shook his tear-stained face obviously afraid of what they would do to him.

“It’s him. He’s the source,” Gwen said, pulling Martha’s attention away from the child. Martha glanced over at her friend who was looking down at the device in her hand. 

“We have to get him to the hub,” Jack ordered brusquely.

The captain took a few large, quick steps towards the boy. The child let out a wordless cry and stumbled back, falling to the ground with a muffled thud. 

“Jack, you’re scaring him!” Gwen’s voice was laced with concern. 

Jack glanced briefly at Gwen before turning back toward the boy. “Kid,” he asked, half crouching with his hands resting just above his knees, “Do you understand me? You need to come with us.”

The boy looked blankly up at him. There was no sign he understood what was being spoken to him. Jack took another step forward. The child scurried backwards on his hands and feet, pushing himself through the wet grass. His face was screwed up in fear. 

“We don’t have time for this!” Jack groaned and raised his gun. In his grief over Owen’s untimely death, he didn’t see the boy’s tears or his shaking hands as he shielded his face. All Jack saw was Owen’s cold, lifeless face; another person dead because of him. When you had lived as long as he had, it could feel like everyone around you died, and somehow, it was all inextricably connected back to you. It was your fault. Some part of his brain told him it wasn’t his fault, and it certainly wasn’t the child’s fault, the two situations weren’t even connected. But another part, the louder, angrier part, flashed between the dangerously high rift readings and another name to add to the list of the dead. 

“Jack! No!” Martha and Gwen shouted. 

Gwen lunged for Jack and pulled his arm down, moving the barrel of the gun away from the boy. Tears ran down the child’s small face as he whimpered. Martha surged forward and grabbed him under the armpits. She lifted him, struggling to keep hold as the boy began to thrash, trying to pull away from her. 

“Martha. Put him down! You don’t know who he is or what he’s capable of.”

Martha ignored Jack and continued to wrestle with the boy. She was shocked by how warm he was; she wouldn’t be surprised if he had a fever. After a moment she managed to grip him tight against her. “Open the door. Now,” she grunted through gritted teeth. 

The boy continued to scream and lash out as they staggered towards the vehicle. Despite his small stature, he was surprisingly strong. Against all odds, they managed to get him the right way round in the seat and buckle him in. Martha didn’t hold out much hope that the restraint would keep him still for long. She just hoped that it would stay that way until they could get moving. The former UNIT soldier rounded the truck quickly and jumped into the seat beside the kid, pulling the door closed behind her. In front of her Jack and Gwen leapt into their respective seats, slamming the doors shut. The engine roared as Jack pulled away from the field and the misty fog that was rolling in.

Beside her, the boy hyperventilated as he swung his head from side to side. His dark hair was plastered across his forehead, and his eyes were feverish. He looked at Martha with those wide dark orbs before spinning to stare at the buildings that speed by as they approached the city. He repeated the movement over and over again until Martha felt sick. 

The journey back felt much shorter than it had going out. In no time at all, Jack was parking the vehicle. Martha looked over at the boy and was pleasantly surprised to note that the kid hadn’t unbuckled his seatbelt. Ianto emerged from the shadows to greet them, but when his eyes landed on the small boy Jack had wrapped in his arms, he froze. Martha watched in mild amusement as a dozen thoughts flew through the man’s mind gaping like a fish out of water.

“Who is this?” He finally managed to ask.

“The reason for the disruptions,” Jack snapped as he brushed past his lover and into the building. 

Ianto scampered to follow Jack. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the two women fall into step behind them. The captain led them through the hub and towards the medical area. Jack ran his eyes over the medical table in an attempt to make sure there was nothing sharp or potentially violent beside the bed before he lowered the boy onto the table. Despite the warmth of the building, his small body continued to shake with vicious tremors even as his cheeks burned a fiery red.

“I want a full medical analysis,” Jack said before bounding up the stairs two at a time. 

Ianto shared a silent look with Martha and Gwen before following his boss towards the man’s office. 

Martha grabbed her lab coat from a hook embedded in the wall and swung it on before moving to wash her hands. 

“Martha,” Gwen spoke softly, her eyes glued on the small frame of their patient, “I think he’s in shock.”

Martha let her eyes move over the shaking figure as she pulled on a pair of gloves. “I think you may be right,” she commented, “Grab me a shock blanket, will you?” 

Gwen nodded and moved to pull one of the shiny metallic blankets out of a cupboard. 

Three hours later, the boy had ceased shaking and was sipping some weak tea spiked with enough sugar to down a grown man. He was curled up on the couch next to Gwen with the blanket still pulled around his shoulders watching something on a tablet. Despite not having spoken a word since they found him and seemingly having no understanding of English, he appeared to be enjoying the colourful children’s show.

Martha gestured with her head that she was going to talk to Jack. Gwen nodded and gave her a small smile letting the other woman know that she would be fine there with the boy. He was starting to grow on her. From the little snorts he made when something on the screen amused him to the way he was beginning to curl into her side, the child was working his way into her heart. She could tell he was a good kid, but where did he come from? And what was he doing at the site of one of the most significant rift ruptures in recorded history?

Martha ran through what she was going to say to Jack as she made her way through the hub. Her stomach threatened to release its contents. She was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to like what she had to tell him – she certainly didn’t. She took a deep breath and walked into his office. Jack looked up from the mess of papers that surrounded him and raised a solitary eyebrow. 

“Tell me,” he said. 

Martha pursed her lips before beginning, “I did some of the tests twice,” she explained, defending herself before she’d even told him what she’d found, “I was sure I was doing something wrong; I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. But,” she shook her head, “they came back the same both times.”

Jack stood up, his palms pressing against the surface of his desk, “What? What did you find?”

“You tell me.” Martha paused for a moment, finding her place on the printout she held in her hands, “High fluctuations in brain wave patterns. Abnormal lung structure. Unknown organs. High blood pressure. His blood samples didn’t match any known type on file. He also has various additional anomalies in his blood. And,” she looked up from her paper as she finished her summary, “a binary cardiovascular system.” 

Jack’s face drained of colour as he fell back into his seat. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that that kid out there,” Martha turned to look back the way she’d come, “was a Time Lord.”

“Or whatever they call their children,” Jack muttered under his breath.

“So, do you think he’s the same as the Doctor?” Martha’s thighs pressed against the edge of the desk as she leaned toward Jack. Urgency, excitement, and trepidation colouring her voice. 

Jack ran a hand across his face, his fingers tingling as they brushed against the stubble growing there, “It looks that way.”

“We have to tell him!” Martha cried and began to fumble with her pockets before pulling out a phone. 

“What are you doing?”

“Calling the Doctor. He needs to know about this.”

“No. We can’t.” Jack shook his head.  
Martha looked up at him sharply, “No? Why not? He needs to know that he’s not alone. And more importantly, maybe he can help us figure out what’s going on.”

“We don’t know where the kid’s from or if he really is the same species as the Doctor. It could be a trick, a trap, or worse. If we call him, we run the risk of escalating a situation we don’t know anything about.”

Martha arched her eyebrow, “I thought you’d want to see him again. Why don’t you?”

“Martha, please. Not now.” Jack let out a frustrated little grunt. 

The silence weighed heavily with all the unsaid words between them before Jack could stand it no longer. “Go run a few more tests,” he finally said. “Just to be certain.” 

The immortal watched as Martha left the room. He knew she was mad and confused, but he couldn’t help it. There was a part of him that said that bringing the Doctor into this was not a good idea. He couldn’t describe it, but he’d learnt long ago that listening to that little voice in the back of his head was a good idea. Ignoring it usually ended badly. Besides, there was someone else that he wanted to see more, especially in the wake of Owen’s death. A dear friend who would no doubt prove to be more helpful than the Doctor would be. Someone who might just know why they had a baby Time Lord in their med bay. He hadn’t heard from her in a while. This was the perfect excuse. He smiled to himself as he reached out to pick up the phone.


	3. Demands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River answers Jack's call.

Martha’s mind spun as she helped the small boy back onto the examination table. Gwen handed her the instruments she needed as she went through the tests for the third time. By now, the kid knew what to expect and sat quietly, letting her poke and prod him without complaint. 

“I don’t understand,” Martha said, “Surely calling _him_ would be the best move?”

Gwen shrugged, “Jack usually knows what he’s talking about. If he’s being cautious, there’s probably a good reason for it.”

Martha opened her mouth to make another retort when a peculiar odour hit her nostrils. It brought back memories of Jack’s vortex manipulator and the year that never was. Her frustration became tangible. Where had he gone? She was ready to stomp back up the stairs and yell at his empty chair just to vent some of her frustration when she heard two voices float through the hub. One was Jack’s. The other was a woman’s she didn’t recognise. 

It was only a moment before she could make out the words, “What is it that you need me to see so badly that it couldn’t wait? It better not be what I think it is,” the woman’s voice dropped an octave.

“Mmmm, and what do you think it is?” Jack flirted back. Martha could practically _hear_ his eyelashes fluttering, she rolled her eyes.

“Jack!” The woman laughed.

Jack’s voice bubbled with laughter alongside hers before growing serious, “Not _what_ but _who_.”

The couple stepped into view. Martha looked up from her instruments and took in the unknown woman, from the curves to the curls and royal features, she wore power like a perfume. Martha and Gwen shared a quick look over the boy’s head. _Who was she?_

The woman in question took one glance at the boy before swinging her head to look at her companion, “Jack. This is a child.”

“Yes, we think he’s like you.”

The mystery woman was a Time Lord?! Martha’s head swum. If the proof to the contrary weren’t in front of her, she’d say it was impossible.

“Like me? He’s not one of my brothers, is he?” The woman’s voice hardened and took on a seriousness that wasn’t there before. “You think Kovarian is involved?”

“We don’t know who’s involved,” Jack said, resting a comforting hand on her arm. “But, no, I don’t think she’s someone we have to worry about right now,” he paused, “unless she’s taken to throwing her experiments through the rift.”

Jack’s companion made her way down the stairs to where Martha, Gwen, and the boy were. Moving to make room, Gwen slipped back up the stairs and headed off toward where Tosh was working. As she passed Jack, she shot him a brief questioning glance. 

Jack leaned over the rail and introduced Martha to the other woman, “Martha Jones, meet Dr River Song.” 

“Professor now, Darling.”

“Congratulations are in order then, _Professor_. Is there room in your class for a new student?” 

A deep throaty laugh bubbled out of River as she shook her head, “I’m starting to think there’s something about university offices that turn you on, Captain.” 

“Just the woman who’s in them.” Jack winked. 

River shook her head fondly with a small smile. She then turned to the child in front of her. “Hello,” she said softly, a little unsure of herself. Children always made her a little uncomfortable. She didn’t have much experience with them, despite the secret dreams she sometimes harboured. 

The boy looked up at her blankly. 

Martha explained, “He doesn’t know any English. Or any other human language either,” she added. “We’ve tested his hearing. There are no issues there. He just doesn’t know what we’re saying.”

River nodded thoughtfully. She turned back to Jack, “You said he’s got all the markers of a Gallifreyan?”

Jack nodded, and Martha reached for her test results to show River.

Ignoring the papers in Martha’s hand, River looked at the boy again. She tentatively reached out her mind and brushed it against his own. She didn’t have much practice with telepathy beyond her husband; her hearts thumped loudly in her chest as she tried to keep from invading his mind. When her mind touched his, the boy’s eyes lit up happily, and his mind reached out to hers. River pulled back, having received the answer to her question. When she did the boy pouted, sad at losing her presence and being alone once more. 

_“Hello. What’s your name?”_ River asked, brushing off her rusty Gallifreyan.

_“Ro-Haan. Are you the Doctor?”_

River chuckled, _“No. I’m River. Why? Are you looking for him?”_

Ro-Haan nodded, _“The Council sent me. They said I have to find the Doctor and get him to bring us back.”_

_“Bring you back?”_

_“Yeah, Gallifrey was taken out of the universe. Weeeeell, this one, anyway. I’m glad the Daleks didn’t kill everybody, but we can’t stay hidden forever. People are getting mad, and there’s not enough food or other things,”_ the boy shrugged. 

River frowned, _“How old are you, Ro-Haan?”_

_“Seven. I’ll be eight soon, though.”_

_“I’m sure you’re very brave and very smart, but why did the Council send you when they could have sent a Time Lord?”_

_“You’re wrong.”_

_“I’m wrong?”_

_“Mmmm. They couldn’t send one of the Lords. The hole they made between the universes is too small for a grown-up. They needed a kid. They said that if I find the Doctor and he brings Gallifrey back to this universe, then I get to go to the Academy,”_ the boy added as an afterthought. 

The blood drained from River’s face. He was just a pawn in the Time Lords’ game. She brought up her hand to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“River? What is it?”

River sighed and looked up to her friend, “His name is Ro-Haan. He’s Gallifreyan. Apparently, they want him to get the Doctor’s attention and make him bring them back.”

“What?! How? They’re all dead!” Martha interrupted, confusion and disbelief flashing across her face. 

“I think we have proof to the contrary,” River stated dryly.

_“River?”_ Ro-Haan asked. _“Could you take me home? I miss my Dad. I don’t like it here. It’s too quiet, and my tummy hurts. I just want to go home.”_

_“Oh, sweetie…”_ River looked at the boy sadly before turning her eyes to the ceiling, trying to think of what to say. How could she let the kid in front of her know that she had no way to get him home? She was only vaguely aware of Jack walking down the stairs and Martha moving aside to allow him to stand beside her. 

_“Pleeease, River. Sage will be worried about me. I said I’d go climbing with him after his classes.”_

River caught onto the chance to distract the boy and give herself a little more time to think of how she might try to find a way to send him back. _“Sage? Who’s he?”_

_“He’s my best friend. It’s not really his name. It’s just a nickname._ ” He shrugged. _“I think I’ll marry him when we get big.”_

River laughed, _“That sounds like a wonderful idea.”_

“What’s he saying?” Jack asked. 

River turned her head toward him, “He said that he wants to marry his best friend.”

Jack snaked his arm around River and rested his hand on her waist. He pulled her gently against him. “Marrying your best friend is a great idea,” he said, kissing River on the cheek. 

River swatted his chest with a laugh, “It’s too bad I’m already married then.”

Jack pouted playfully.

From her spot in the corner, Martha wondered what the relationship between Jack and River was. It was apparent that there was a lot of history there, but what history? She was contemplating going and finding Ianto to see if he knew anything about _her_ when the boy clutched at his stomach and screamed. 

River pulled away from Jack and helped Ro-Haan lower himself to the bed. He curled up in a ball as tears streamed from his eyes. 

Martha pushed past Jack. After a tense minute where the doctor tried to diagnose what was wrong, she turned to the two other adults in the room and admitted, “I don’t know.”

River pulled out a trowel, seemingly from out of thin air. It made a buzzing noise as she pointed it at the boy and ran it over his small body. 

“Is that sonic?” Martha asked in disbelief.

River nodded distractedly as she absorbed the readings. It took a moment for them to truly sink in. When they did her eyes widened, and she turned to Jack. “We have to send him back. Now!”

“Explain.”

“Those bastards didn’t know what they were doing. By sending him from their universe to ours, they’ve damaged practically every cell in his body. And that’s not all. Somehow, he’s still connected to the void between the universes. If he stays here, he’ll rip a hole from one side of the void to the other. Not only will our universe collapse, but so will theirs! But if we get him back to their universe, then that should restore the equilibrium between the universes and prevent the destruction of our home and theirs.”

Jack rubbed his chin, “That’s a lot of ‘if’s.”

“It’s not like we have a lot of options here, Jack.”

The captain nodded. “Fill Tosh in. She might be able to help. I’ll see what I can do.”

River nodded and leapt up the stairs. 

Jack turned to Martha. “Keep him alive,” he commanded.

River, Jack, Gwen, and Tosh worked frantically at different computers around the hub. River slammed her fist down on the desk in frustration. Every scenario she ran through the system ended in the same result, total universal destruction. The only aberration still predicted the earth’s annihilation. 

On the other side of the room, Tosh keyed in a string of numbers. She smiled. “I’ve got something!” She called to the others. 

River looked up and took what might have been the six fastest steps of her life to Tosh’s side. When she saw what Tosh was pointing at, she gasped. Somehow the other woman had opened a communication channel to Gallifrey. 

River turned to look at Tosh. “How?” She whispered before clearing her throat, “No. Never mind. Can you let them know we’re here?”

Tosh nodded, keyed in a few commands, and pressed enter. 

Both women waited with bated breath. A few agonising moments later a message appeared on the screen: _Doctor, do your duty._

River shook her head; this would never do. She looked once more at the scientist beside her. “Could you rig this to carry an audio message? Or better yet, two-way video?”

Tosh screwed up her nose, “I’m not sure.” She keyed in a few commands. “Give me a moment. I might be able to get you something.”

River took a step back, giving Tosh room to work her magic, as she did so she felt Jack move in behind her. He stepped into her space and looked over her shoulder, watching Tosh masterfully create the programme necessary to communicate with a planet a universe away. Brushing up close to River, Jack leant in and whispered in her ear. She tilted her head back and gave a short, hushed response. Jack nodded before pulling away from her. From her desk, Gwen’s eyebrows furrowed as she watched their interaction.

“I’ve got it!” Tosh exclaimed happily pulling Gwen back into the moment.

River stepped back to Tosh’s side and watched as the monitor flickered to life. A woman with strong facial features emerged from the black screen. River could see the top of her military outfit, leaving no doubt as to the position of power that she held.

“You’re not the Doctor,” she stated once the connection stabilised.

River shook her head, “No.”

“Where is he?”

“That,” River admitted with a shrug, “I don’t know.”

The other woman growled low in her throat. “Who are you?”

River took a steadying breath, the next words out of her mouth could make or break the conversation, “Professor River Song.”

The General’s eyes hardened in recognition, “You’re the one–”

River cut her off before she could finish the sentence. “Yes,” she snapped. What the General was about to say, be it an admission of her role in the Doctor’s supposed death or their subsequent marriage, was not something that she wanted the Torchwood team knowing. They needed to stay focused and prevent universal collapse, not be concerned with the workings of her personal life. 

The General pursed her lips. A moment so thick one could cut it with a knife passed between the two women. “You are an abomination, unnatural in every sense of the word. Not only that, but you are also a mockery of everything Time Lord society stands for,” the General said, venom flowing from every word, “But,” she conceded, “you may be able to do what the Doctor has refused to do.”

River’s fists shook with fury at her side. It took every ounce of her willpower not to shoot the image before her with her blaster. She longed to see it blackened and dripping with molten heat. “I will not. The Doctor removed you from the universe for a reason. I will not bring you back.”

“The _Doctor_ ,” the General ground out, “was attempting to stop the Time War. That war is over. There is no reason why we shouldn’t return.”

“There is every reason why you should stay where you are. Not only do thousands of civilisations hold a grudge against you, but you are also the subject of great interest. At the very least, you come back, and every university will send teams to study you while armies amass weapons to destroy you.”

The General shrugged. “Let them come.”

River’s mind whirred. If she found a way to bring them into her universe it _might_ restore stability, or it might not. If she didn’t, the universes collapsed. But if there was some way to get Ro-Haan back _and_ keep the Time Lords where they were, then the fragile equilibrium would be restored without bowing to the will of the egotistical bastards. There just wasn’t time! Why was it that whenever she found herself tangled up in the affairs of the _Time_ Lords, she always ran out of that precious commodity? 

Before the professor could deny the General’s request once again, she felt a strange stirring in the air. Her skin prickled, and a metallic tang coated her tongue. In what felt like minutes but was in reality only a fraction of a second, she knew what the odd sensation was. Her eyes widened in horror. “No…” she whispered. 

Martha ran a cold cloth over Ro-Haan’s red face while trying to ease his pain. She was at a loss. Her experience with Time Lord biology was restricted to the Doctor. Dealing with a pain-stricken child was very different than dealing with an adult who could direct you to what they needed. She sent up a quick prayer to whatever deity might be listening. 

As she ran the cloth once more over the boy’s head, she noticed sparks of a glowing golden light jump from Ro-Haan’s hands. “What the–,” she muttered. She leant in to take a closer look when River came running towards them. The older woman threw herself at the railing on the main level. 

“Get away from him!” She yelled. 

Martha looked up at River, a frown forming on her face. She turned back to her patient and let out an involuntary scream as a fierce golden glow smothered the boy’s face and hands from her view. Martha felt the professor grab her by the back of her jacket and forcibly pull her up the stairs. If she hadn’t been so captivated by the golden fire that engulfed what was once a small child, she would have marvelled at the physical strength of the other woman.

Ro-Haan screamed as the energy tore through his body. Martha winced as the sound cut through her. She watched as the golden fire of regeneration energy shot out from his limbs and circled through the air. It moved as if it was a singular entity. The UNIT doctor could feel River’s hands tighten around her shoulders as they tracked the movement of the energy with their eyes. It flowed through the air in the direction of the rift. It was as if something in the void, or beyond, was drawing the energy out of the boy. 

As the fire softened to a glow and the energy dissipated, Martha noticed that Ro-Haan was no longer screaming. River’s voice cut through the echoes of the child’s screams that still rung in her ears, “Shit.”


	4. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gallifrey returns!

Tosh looked at Jack. Her eyebrows furrowed together, and her eyes shone with barely repressed concern. “Jack,” she said, “I think we’ve got a problem.”

Jack’s gaze remained fixed on the spot where the golden energy had left the hub. It took a moment for Tosh’s words to penetrate his musings. He shook his head lightly to dispel the thoughts that circled his brain. “What is it?” He asked as he moved towards her.

Tosh pointed to the fluctuating readings on her screen. “Something’s moving through the void. It’s speed and trajectory show that it’s using the rift as a gateway to come through to our universe.” She turned her body to face his, “Jack, I’ve never seen anything this big come through before.” 

Jack leant closer to the screen as if greater proximity would clarify the numbers he was seeing. His eyebrows rose high on his forehead as he watched the number continue to increase dramatically. There seemed to be little he could do except await the worst. Seconds dragged into minutes. Jack’s knuckles went as he gripped Tosh’s desk. The number froze. He closed his eyes as the software overloaded, unable to register the energy displacement coming from the rift. 

The ground shook violently, and the building shuddered as its occupants hurtled towards the floor. Jack’s tight hold on the bolted down desk helped him to keep his footing though not without considerable effort. He was vaguely aware of Tosh and Gwen trying to crawl across the rolling floor toward their desks. Gwen managed to grab one of the secured legs and pull herself under, narrowly missing a significant head injury from a flying alien artefact.

As quickly as it started, it stopped. The room felt unnaturally still. Papers and electronics littered the floor. After first checking that his team was all in one piece, Jack set about restoring some of the systems. Thanking his lucky stars, he and his team were able to bring everything back online in a matter of minutes. 

Jack pressed the keyboard’s keys as he watched Tosh’s monitor flicker back to life. He took in the readings as the system resumed its scans on rift activity. The captain saw that after the initial surge, it had lowered and stabilised. Running over to one of the other stations, he attempted to run further scans. Smacking the side of the monitor, he urged the machine to increase its speed. His breath burned his lungs as he held it waiting for the results. When they flashed onto the screen, he swore, “Fuck.”

Jack spun on his heel and ran in the direction he had last seen River. 

Shaking away the fog of unconsciousness, River picked herself up from the cold floor. After a quick mental check that nothing was broken, she turned her attention to Martha. The other woman was sitting across from her, massaging her ankle in small little circular motions. 

“You alright?” River asked. 

Martha didn’t look at her. Instead, the doctor kept her eyes firmly on the unconscious child who’d been thrown to the ground during the quake. “Is that– Did that– Happen to the Doctor?”

“Regeneration? Yes. But his are often more violent,” River confirmed with a slight chuckle before she pushed herself to her feet. The newly minted professor made her way to the still form of Ro-Haan, her hearts in her throat. A silent mantra echoed through her mind. _Please be ok. Please be ok._

River crouched down beside the small motionless body. After visually running her eyes over Ro-Haan, she ran her hand across the child’s forehead and down her face. River paused for a moment, the backs of her fingers resting on a soft pale chook. The little boy was now a little girl. Pushing aside her curiosity, River was relieved to note that Ro-Haan was breathing. River felt the weight of a thousand worlds lift from her shoulders. 

Planting her feet firmly beneath her, River scooped the girl up into her arms and made her way back up the stairs. River shifted awkwardly, trying to get the child in a comfortable position. She moved Ro-Haan so that the child’s cheek was pressed against River’s shoulder and her body was held diagonally across her chest. The little girl’s arms dangled like small weights from her body. 

Martha was standing gingerly, with most of her weight resting on one leg. She leaned against the railing before clearing her throat to ask her companion a question. Before she could do so, however, the sound of brisk footsteps interrupted her. The doctor turned in unison with River to look at the newcomer. 

“Thank God! You’re ok,” Jack exclaimed as he approached them. He turned to focus on River, “We’ve got a problem.”

River huffed, “Of course we do.”

Jack frowned, momentarily distracted by the child in River’s arms. “Is that?” He asked.

“Ro-Haan? Yes,” River confirmed confused as to Jack’s sudden interest.

“But–,” Jack began. 

“She’s a girl,” Martha supplied, taking a hesitant step closer. 

“She did just regenerate,” River huffed, “Changing gender isn’t unheard of.”

“No,” Jack shook his head. “I was going to say, ‘She’s so small’. She was definitely bigger before, wasn’t she?”

River looked down at the little head covered in soft brown hair. The little girl had snuggled into the crook of River’s neck while she slept, her thumb nestled in her mouth. In her haste to make sure Ro-Haan was ok the archaeologist hadn’t noticed that the seven-year-old was now the size of a small toddler, two years old at best. Ro-Haan’s clothes engulfed her body, and River had no trouble holding her close with one well-positioned arm. 

Regretting his lapse in focus, Jack forged ahead with addressing their current crisis. “They made it through,” he stated matter-of-factly.

River’s eyes shot to his, and her face hardened as she took in his words. “The regeneration energy…”

Jack nodded, “Tosh thinks it gave them the pathway they needed.”

River shifted the child in her arms and pushed her sleeve out of the way with a finger, revealing her vortex manipulator. Catching on to what she was doing, Jack stepped closer to her and grabbed onto her arm. River tried to shake him off before pushing the button, but with her arms full of one small soft sleeping babe, she didn’t have much success. 

Being pulled into the vortex on one’s own was painful enough but three bodies being catapulted through time and space by a device meant for one was excruciating. River felt a change in their movement through the vortex. At first, she thought it was due to the manipulator having to compensate for Jack and Ro-Haan, but as the time winds threatened to tear through her body, she knew something else was at play. River felt another presence, some sort of advanced technology, wrap itself around her small party and pull them off course. 

They materialised in a stark white room. It was long and barren apart from the few wooden chairs the lined the walls. Ro-Haan whimpered in River’s arms. The woman’s focus, however, was on the General, the two military commanders that flanked her, and the group of soldiers that followed close behind. River soothed the child without thinking. She ran her hand gently up and down the girl’s back while swaying softly and making quiet hushing sounds. Later, when she reflected on that moment, River realised that if she had not been distracted by the approaching Time Lords, she would have certainly been at a loss at what to do with the distressed infant. 

Beside her, Jack took a step forward and growled low in his throat, “What do they want?”

The General looked at the two aberrations. “Return the child to us.”

River wrapped both arms around the girl. “You have used her and hurt her. What in God’s name makes you think you should have her back?”

The other woman looked at her with barely concealed contempt. _“Take her,”_ she said to the man beside her. He nodded and began to move toward River. 

River stepped back and held Ro-Haan protectively against her chest. Her forearm followed the length of the child’s back, and her hand rested on the back of her head. Her other arm curled under her so that Ro-Haan was practically sitting on River’s forearm. Unperturbed, the man continued to advance. River found herself ready to fight tooth and nail to protect the little girl she had only met that day. 

Jack fought off one of the soldiers that tried to subdue him. But when two more joined the first he was forced to watch was two approached River from either side. With weapons trained on her and strong hands holding her back, even River couldn’t fight them and hope to win. 

The commander took Ro-Haan from River. As soon as he did so, she began to cry. Unsure of what to do with the squirming, screeching toddler, the large man held her at arms-length. He made his way back towards the General. The woman directed him to put the child on the ground, something he was only too happy to do. 

Anger swirled in River’s belly as she watched what could have been a scene from her own childhood play out in front of her. The General commanded Ro-Haan to be quiet and take the hand of the commander who stood at attention on the woman’s other side. Unable to do anything with her arms held forcibly at her side and a blaster pointed at her head, River could only watch as Ro-Haan choked down a few sobs, put her small thumb in her mouth, and hold onto the commander’s hand.

Pleased at the child’s obedience, the General approached River and Jack. “You are both a disgrace,” she began. “Neither of you should exist, and yet here you are. While I would like nothing better than to turn you over to our scientists for study or our law enforcement for imprisonment, I am not an unfair woman. I acknowledge that you both played a part, however small, in Gallifrey’s return to the proper space-time. For that, I will let you go. 

“But,” her voice grew icy, “you are not to return here. Until stability has returned to the planet, we will maintain a maximum-security cloaking field. Neither you nor anyone else will be able to penetrate it. It will be as if we do not exist. When we do make ourselves known, understand that there will be orders against you both. If either one of you sets foot on this planet, you will find yourself wishing for a quick death. Is that understood?” 

River and Jack nodded. 

The General turned her back on them and walked towards the only visible door in the white clinical room. Passing between her two commanders the General spoke softly, _“Return the child to her father. We have no more use for her.”_

River felt the knot in her stomach loosen slightly. Unlike herself, Ro-Haan had succeeded in doing what those with power over her had demanded. She would be reunited with her father. River could only hope that she would be able to enjoy a normal childhood, something she never had. As the thoughts flitted about her head, River felt the grip of the transporter wrap itself around her. The long hallway faded from view as she and Jack were subjected to the mercy of the Time Lords once more.


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short little fluffy chapter to finish. (Yes, it does also have angst in it - have you met me? I seem to be physically impossible not to include angst in my fluff!!!)

In a flash of light, Jack and River found themselves back at Torchwood. Before his team could ask any questions, the captain raised a hand to forestall their words. He then moved to hold River lightly by her upper arm and guided her toward his office. They stood there in the enclosed room for a time looking at each other, trying to wrap their minds around what had just happened. Jack blinked and focused on the space visible outside his office. He frowned and moved toward the door. 

Poking his head out of the room, Jack spoke to his guilty-looking team, “Go take a walk.” A few of them rolled their eyes, but they dutifully gave the two friends the privacy they needed and obviously desired.

Jack turned back to see River imputing coordinates into her vortex manipulator. “Next time you call,” she said, half-joking, “I’m not going to answer.”

“I’m sorry about all this,” Jack told his friend sweeping his hands out gesturing in the air around him.

River shook her head sadly and moved toward him. She rested a hand on his arm. “It’s okay,” she said sincerely before taking a step back. She tilted her head and gave Torchwood’s leader a soft smile, “Well, I guess this is goodbye.”

Jack reached out a hand to pause her movements. “You’d be brilliant,” he muttered softly. 

Confusion flashed across River’s face. 

Jack cleared his throat, looked into her eyes, and spoke clearly, “As a mum, that is. You’d be a great mum.” He’d seen the longing that flashed across her face when they’d pulled Ro-Haan out of her arms.

River laughed; it held more pain and longing than joy or relief. Noticing Jack’s frown, she explained, “That’s just not possible.” She sighed and gazed at the wall beyond him. “He. We.” River huffed and looked at her friend, “There’s just no _time_. And if there was, he’s done all that. I don’t think he’d want to re-live that life.” _At least, not with me,_ she added silently.

Jack’s face hardened, and his eyes burned with barely restrained fury. “My dislike of this man keeps on growing.” He reached out and grasped River firmly, pulling her into a tight embrace. They stand like that for a long time, and he tries to ignore the sad little snuffles he could feel River failing to hold back. When he’s convinced she’s composed, he pulls back. “If you ever want to... Have kids, that is,” he begins, “I’m here in whatever way you need. I’ll always be here. I’m a little hard to kill, you know,” he joked trying to alleviate some of the tension in the room.

River chuckled and tugged him into another quick hug before stepping away, her hand hovering over her manipulator. “What is it with you and trying to get into my bed?” She teased.

Jack’s soft laughter joined her own before growing serious once more, “I mean it. There are very few people in the universe who mean as much to me as you. You’re one of a kind, River Song.” He paused, looking at her intently before quietly continuing, “I just want you to be happy.” He cupped her face in his hands. The captain brushed his lips against River’s forehead before stepping back.

River smiled at the immortal, pressed the button on her vortex manipulator, and disappeared in a flash of energy. 

Gwen looked at Martha as they stood vigil outside Jack’s office. It had been close to an hour since Jack had shooed them away, and they were starting to worry. Martha gave a quick nod, and Gwen raised her hand to the door handle. Before she could grasp it, however, the door swung open, and Jack walked out. He seemed surprised to see the two women standing there. He stopped his forward momentum and looked at them questioningly. 

Before Martha could ask if he was okay, or where River had gone, Gwen spoke first, “Who is she? The woman with all the hair. River, right?”

Jack scrubbed his hand across his face and released a deep, slow breath. “A friend.” 

Martha and Gwen shared a look of confusion as the captain pushed past them, leaving their unspoken questions hanging in the air.

In a flash of ozone, River appeared in her house on Luna. Located in the outskirts of the city and equipped with the best security system money could buy from the 56th century, she was confident that her home would be just as she left it. Looking around the living room, the archaeologist was annoyed to note that there was a new layer of dust on the artefacts and trinkets that lined the shelves. She really was gone too often. Pulling off her jacket and throwing it at the couch, River made her way to the laundry to grab a cloth mumbling under her breath.

The mindless task of cleaning gave her space to reflect on what had just happened. She felt a twist of anxiety when her thoughts turned to Ro-Haan. There was no way to make sure that the little girl was okay, and it ate at her. Once she’d finished her task, she wandered slowly toward her bedroom, running her fingers lightly over the walls of her house. Emerging into her room, she shed her clothes and stepped into the adjoining bathroom. After a hot shower that did as much to ease the tension coiled in her shoulders as it did to clean her, River slid between her sheets, falling into a fitful sleep. 

Three hours after she drifted off, River woke with a gasp. Sitting up, she pulled one of her pillows to her chest, willing the violent visions of Time Lords in ceremonial regalia to fade. A handful of slow breaths later she’d managed to slow her racing hearts. There would be no point in trying to woo sleep now. She’d experienced many such abrupt awakenings and knew that Morpheus would elude her. Tossing her covers back, she reached for her robe. 

Running a hand through her hair, the professor hummed lightly under her breath as she anticipated her morning cup of tea. When she stepped into the kitchen, her jaw dropped in surprise. Standing at the stove was her husband. He’d shed his dark purple coat at some point and was singing lightly to himself as he placed bacon in a hot fry pan. River stifled a giggle as she watched him sway his hips in time to whatever song was running through his head. 

River carefully inched toward him. Making sure to stay clear of his flailing limbs, she said, “Hello, Sweetie.”

The Doctor jumped with a squeak, dropping the tongs and bacon onto the cooktop. Spinning quickly, he stammered, “River! Wha- Wha- What are you doing here?”

River reached past him and picked up one of the cooked pieces of toast that lay waiting for the bacon. “It’s my house, silly,” she replied as she took a bite.

Her husband tugged at his bowtie and cleared his throat. “No. I meant, what are you doing in the kitchen? I was going to bring you breakfast in bed!”

River leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “That’s sweet of you, Doctor. But since I’m up, we might as well have it at the table?” She watched as the Doctor relaxed and nodded his head in agreement. Moving around him, she began to carry the plates, glasses, and cutlery to the table. 

Later, when they were curled on the couch, and their teacups steamed softly from the coffee table, she summoned the courage to ask the question that had been beating a tattoo in her mind. “If Gallifrey was still here, if the war had gone differently and it hadn’t been destroyed, what would you do? Would you go home?”

The Doctor’s hand stilled. It had been drawing slow circles into her upper arm, but at her words, it balled into a fist. He shifted in his seat, pulling himself upright and forcing River to move away from him and mirror his position. He faced the other side of the room, but his eyes were distant. If River was any judge, and she was, she’d say they were probably thousands of years in the past and millions of light-years away. 

After a tense moment, during which time River became convinced he wouldn’t say anything on the matter, the Doctor spoke. His voice was gruff and quiet; she had to strain to hear him, “It’s impossible. Not worth thinking about.” 

River felt her hearts sink in her chest. She’d upset him. She wouldn’t be surprised if he found some excuse to leave. The professor knew she didn’t have much time left with him, and she should cherish every moment she did get, but her curiosity had gotten the best of her. She spun her legs off the couch and rested her hands on her knees. Looking at the floor instead of her husband, River spoke softly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean – that is to say, I know they’re your people,” _even if they are a bunch of bastards_ , she thought before continuing, “but if you’d rather not talk about it…” 

The Doctor shook his head, trying to push the conflicting emotions into the furthest parts of his mind. He reached for his wife, curling his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to himself. After running the backs of his fingers lightly over her cheek, he moved his attentions to her chin. Gently grasping it, he tilted her head towards his own so that she would look into his eyes. He saw his own pain and loss reflected back at him. He sighed. 

The ancient Time Lord lowered his face to hers and gave her a light kiss, barely brushing her lips with his. When he pulled back, he curled his other arm around her, enfolding her in his embrace. “My friends, my wife,” he gently squeezed her, trying to say with his actions what he couldn’t with his words, “are my people, my family. They’re the ones I care about. You are the one I care about. Not a bunch of stuffy old men in robes.” 

River let herself be pulled onto his chest as he reclined on the couch. She listened to the twin heartbeats that echoed beneath her ear. She was comforted by his presence, and by his words. But there was a nagging in the back of her mind that told her he was lying. His friends maybe, but her? She tried to push the doubts away. Who knew when she’d find herself in his arms again? Every moment was a gift. She felt him press a soft kiss to the crown of her head and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh! You made it to the end. I'm impressed.   
> I hope it was a good little distraction from the craziness that is life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> All the best,  
> JBeans


End file.
